


First Impressions

by Dconslut



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alien Culture, Gay Robots, M/M, Politics, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 15:25:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dconslut/pseuds/Dconslut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically my headcanon about Megatronus and Orion Pax meeting each other for the first time. Reviews welcome! :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

Part I

Nothing soured the achivist's mood more than being interrupted and questioned while he was in the middle of his workload. The solar-cycle was only half over when he received a summons to Senator Doren's office. It was either a very good thing or a very bad thing for most mechs. For Orion Pax it was simply a nuisance. Usually a trip to a Senator's office involved explaining why he altered routes of code or changed data protocols. Orion honestly felt that these meetings were a waste of time. 

There was nothing for it. The fact was that Orion was good at what he did and could probably put out an amount of work equal to 10 mechs above his station. Rather than his skills being celebrated, he was hauled into offices and asked to explain himself. His explanations, Orion knew, were being used to teach entry-level data caste members. Orion preferred to teach his methods himself but... well. One wasn't supposed to extend himself past the duties his station dictated, after all. 

The Senator's halls were easily accessible to the Scholarly castes. While not a scholar himself, Orion was responsible for organizing and archiving a vast amount of information in Iacon's Hall of Records. The information itself came from the upper echelon of the caste; Medics, Scientists, Engineers, Mathematicians, Theoreticians, Legal administrators; all the Grand Thinkers. Orion was only responsible for cataloguing the information, which wasn't on the same level as producing it. But try organizing some brilliant scientist's non-sensical scrawling and see if that didn't grind one's gears. 

The Hallways were an endless collection of tall pillars that supported a cavernous ceiling. Gorgeous detailing drew the optic to intricate carvings that told the story of the Senators, the heroic Primes, how the Alphas were chosen to be the keepers of Primes. The stories were familiar to Orion, but it was the artwork that always stuttered his vents. He always wondered how one thought to produce something of such immense beauty. He made a point of appreciating it whenever he could. 

At Senator Doren's office, Orion entered his visitor's code. The heavy door slid to the side, allowing Orion's access. The older Autobot sat at his desk, which was a mess of datapads stacked precariously. He glanced up and rose from his seat with a pleasant, "Ah. Come in." 

As he expected, the Senator's office was filled with datapads and holographic screens. Aside from the clutter the room had a spacious, sterile office. The Senator stood in front of him, taller than Orion. Face to face, Orion performed the customary greeting for those of a lower caste. He gave a deep bow and kiss on the back of Doren's hand. He laughed at the archivist. 

"Sir?" 

"It's been a long time since anyone's treated me so formally." Senator Doren smiled. "I thank you for your consideration."

"Oh. Forgive me, if it made you uncomfortable -- " 

The Senator turned his back to the young archivist. "Kiss to your spark's content. Please. Have a seat." 

Orion blinked, and then trailed after the Senator, feeling awkward. Orion wasn't used to this Senator. The others tended to be very traditional and formal in the way they spoke to Orion. He felt in his spark he should be glad this Senator tended to do away with such formalities in favour of equality but the attention made him... uneasy. 

The discussion about data management and archiving practises seemed about average. Like the others, this Senator too complimented his organisational skills. No mention about a promotion, though. After a while, Orion got the distinct feeling this Senator wasn't really listening to him, but he powered through his litany of explanations anyway. 

"You know," Doren said from across his desk, pouring himself two glasses of energon. "You've an agile mind, Orion. I wonder why someone of your standing wasn't snatched up sooner for a promotion." 

Orion looked decidedly more interested. 

"We've had an influx of social media hit our educational data nets recently. They're not archived properly and I'm afraid we simply don't have time to sort it all out. Most of the time it's harmless non-sense but recently some questionable material has been making its rounds. We're actually going to open a whole new division. And we need someone capable to run it." The Senator winked and passed a glass of energon to Orion. 

The archivist felt a rush of anticipation. Orion knew certain arrangements with Senators didn't follow official channels, but at least his work was finally being noticed! His fingers quivered as he reached for the cube of energon. "Thank you, Senator." Orion looked forward to a drink after that unexpected good news. It was cool and went down his intake with a sweet, pleasant sting. Oh, that wasn't energon. Orion stared at his empty glass. 

Senator Doren smiled. "Not used to the good stuff?" He chuckled. "A mech of your station isn't used to such treats, hm? In that case, please enjoy it." 

"Please don't take offense I am... simply unused to s-such...ah...." A rush of heat hit Orion's systems unexpectedly and he faltered. Doren smiled, his manner almost grimly calm. 

"The Media Division will require someone of with a strong tank, I'm afraid." Doren said smoothly as he sipped his highgrade. Orion thought it was odd the conversation continued despite his obvious of lack of highgrade tolerance. "Some of the material we uncovered was a little bit lewd in nature. I'll play you one such feed, if that's alright."

Orion sat there with the heat pooling uncomfortably in his chassis. It made the rest of him feel very warm and very heavy. Instead he tried to sit still and not look like a few gulps of highgrade didn't just do him in. "I... n-need to leave." Orion slurred. At least he thought he did, but the Senator activated a media file on the holographic monitor. The archivist resigned himself to at least watch the file. 

The scene opened up with the feed pointing down at someone's pedes. There was a booming sound of many voices in some kind of arena, the clash of metal, and raucous cheers. Then the feed went up, and stilled, as if mounted on a solid surface. The arena was nothing like Orion had ever seen before. In fact, it was like nothing he'd ever seen in Iacon before. Here there were elegance and neatness in the architecture. Walls, seats and barriers looked like it had been made with whatever raw materials could be stitched together with iron cable. 

"Is this Kaon? Is that a... a pit fight?" Orion asked Senator Doren. He suddenly became aware of Doren's proximity to him, uncomfortably close enough that his EM field tickled against his. It worried and disoriented Orion. 

The footage was grainy. One mech was down, writhing in obvious agony, its battle-weary frame spilling pale blue energon from many injuries. Orion covered his mouth and flinched as he saw the opponent's powerful hands rip up plating and warp framework. The crowd was uproarious as they stood in their seats, fists in the air and chanted the Gladiator's name or hollered obscenities.

The silvered mech raised his arms, jagged denta gnashing together as he roared at the crowd. The chanting became unified, louder, coalesced into a single, booming entity. 

Then the silvered Gladiator tore into the loser's pelvic plating. 

Orion's optics swirled wide in horror as he choked on a protest. The highgrade turned to acid in his systems and fear at what he was seeing made him so sick he nearly passed out. Orion stared at the Senator, wanted to ask how he could even think of showing him something like this. When no explanation came he turned back to the monitor as if his answer would be there. He should have known better. 

The crowd was positively insane with activity. Things were heaved in the air, there were shouts and hits exchanged and ... and... by Primus, some of them were fucking. Orion became aware of a hand on his shoulder that coasted to his neck, stroked the side of his faceplate, the corner of his mouth. But Orion stared straight ahead at the holovid. The silvered mech in the centre of the madness had the downed mech's legs around his hips. He thrust himself into him hard and fast, faceplates strained. The mech beneath him let out a wretched sob and looked away, one arm thrown over its optics. 

Orion couldn't bear it anymore. Highgrade or not, he staggered up from his seat and firmly dismissed the sound of it as it clattered backward. The Senator reached out for his arm and held fast, preventing his escape. "Are you upset?" He laughed.

"Please, I..." Orion's ventilations cycled fast, completely out of his control. He didn't know why his eyes glanced at the monitor again. The victor had spilled himself on top of the downed mech. Glowing blue rivulets had splashed across his thighs, pelvic plating and up his chassis. The colour was a bright contrast to the dull, gunmetal grey that was now the loser's colour. He was dragged out by his feet. 

Orion yanked himself away from the Senator's grasp so hard he pulled the older mech off-balance. The archivist was long past proper greetings and departures as he found his pedes, his sobriety and terror and all but sprinted out of the Senator's office. 

***

He'd left Doren's office at a dead run, bowling over anyone who'd gotten in his way. Thankfully, only one or two mechs saw him leave the way he did. Not one of them offered assistance. The archivist found Ratchet's co-ordinates on a common location unit mounted to the wall. Of course Ratchet would be in his lab at this time. Once he knew that, Orion was on auto-pilot as he headed there quickly, as if trying to outrun the incident rolling around in his processor. Orion charged the medic's lab door. 

Ratchet didnt even flinch from his spot in front of the data unit. "Put him on the berth, take his I.D. chip back with you and leave my payment on the desk." 

Orion blinked. "Ratchet, what?" 

Now the medic turned, looking a little startled. "Oh. Orion. What's wrong?" 

The archivist just stared a moment. "Who is coming in here without an I.D. chip and a payment for you?" 

Ratchet stared back, his face as calm and placid as a lake. "You first." 

Orion looked distressed, then shook his head. "I saw something horrible. And I think I insulted a Senator?" 

Ratchet left his station and approached the archivist. "What did you do, sneeze on his hand?" He asked, referring to the customary greeting reserved between Senators and lower castes, the kiss on the back of the hand. The medic's amused expression fell away as he placed his hands on Orion's shoulders. "Orion, you're shaking. Here, sit down and tell me what happened." The medic guided Orion over to the berth and helped him sit down. Orion leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. 

"Senator Doren showed me a Gladitorial fight." He said. Ratchet arched an optic ridge. Orion let out an exasperated vent of air. "A Kaon fight.... the loser was raped and killed in front of everyone." Saying the words made Orion's head swim and he swayed on the berth. "He invited me to his office, said he wanted to discuss something with me." Orion said. "We had some highgrade and I thought he was going to promote me. He talked about the Senators opening up a new media division and he said he wanted me to run it. But then he showed me that recording and..." 

Ratchet was quiet as he brought an energon cube to Orion. The liquid was cooling on his heated systems and Orion downed it gratefully. "He must have given you the good stuff, Orion. The highgrade's hit you pretty hard and disoriented you." Ratchet continued. "The pit-fights in Kaon are barbaric. Sadly, the Kaonites' culture is based on coercion, not exchange, like ours. There isn't much we can do about it." Ratchet explained, gently. 

"I can accept that they are different from us, but that... It's vile, Ratchet!" Orion hissed as he pushed himself off the berth. "Beaten into submission in front of a crowed, mutilated, used and then finally dragged out by his feet as if he were garbage. I don't believe they are so different from us that such horror is common-place or enjoyable." Orion's vents heaved. 

"Orion, you're shouting." Ratchet said, and held out his hand, beckoning the archivist to him. Orion sighed, the indignity of it all leaving him and he approached Ratchet with true fear on his face. 

"Imagine being that mech..." Orion rubbed his arms and shuddered. 

"Sit down." Ratchet said gently. Orion did, and the medic pulled him close. "All Iacon is able to do is pull out the mechs who show promise. The ones who aren't violent, who show a great deal of competence with the work we assign to them, the ones who do not identify with Kaon's culture of violence. And that's all." 

Orion looked hurt. "But that's not enough, Ratchet. Not if things like that are still happening. " 

Ratchet thought very carefully about what he was going to say next. "You saw what happened to the loser. The reality is that it's probably happened to the victor as well, at some point in his career. It's what enables them to be so terrifying and brutal to each other. But there is nothing you can do about it. We can only help when we can, I'm afraid." 

Orion heaved another heavy cycle of air. "Head back to your room, Orion. I'll drop by after my shift." 

"I should go back to my workstation. Or maybe apologize to Senator Doren. I didn't exactly leave with his permission." 

Ratchet scoffed. "Oh, screw permission. What did you do to him anyway?" 

The corner of Orion's mouth twitched upward. "In my rush to get out of there, I think I knocked him on his face." 

The two mechs snickered at each other as the thought of a Senator in such an undignified position was really the topping of a rather upsetting afternoon. Orion's gaze shifted to Ratchet's mouth and then he leaned in and placed a shy, soft kiss on it. Ratchet returned the gesture, but felt Orion stiffen ever so slightly. He pulled back slowly, and smiled kindly at the archivist. He ran a thumb a gently across Orion's chin. "Feeling better?" he asked. At Orion's nod, Ratchet got up from the berth and ushered Orion toward the medical bay doors. 

"I still want to know who's paying you and why they don't need I.D. chips." Orion whispered. 

"That information will cost you more than you an afford, Orion Pax." Ratchet whispered against Orion's audial. "Get." He punctuated the word with a pat right on the other's aft. Orion gasped and his hands dropped to protect his rear end as he nearly tripped out of Ratchet's medbay. Ratchet watched Orion go, a smile on his faceplates. 

Alone in the medbay once again, Ratchet sighed. Senator Doren was a filthy glitch and he wasn't unknown for taking in a lower caste member as a berthmate. Such a practise was supposed to be done discreetly. There was a 'don't ask, don't tell' understanding that existed with all caste members. The fact that Orion had been made a target of a higher-up's attention made Ratchet seethe, but he was glad the stuck up Senator had been turned down and ungracefully so. Ratchet supposed he should have told Orion about that and the real reason why a Senator would have what equated to a snuff film in his office, but Orion had been upset enough at just that feed's existence. Besides, the medic knew no Senator in their right mind would force themselves on someone in the scholarly caste, not even Doren. 

Orion had had yet another illusion of Iacon shattered today. It seemed like every week he was finding out one more dirty secret or filthy truth that brought Iacon closer to the shadow-side mechs everyone shunned. Orion thought fetish pornography in a Senator's office was bad? Try being the medic who was asked to "fix up" the victims who came out of Kaon. That was something to lose your mind at, as Ratchet had discovered. 

Iacon was rotten. Kaon just had the decency to wear it on the outside.


	2. First Impressions 2

Part II

The southern wing of the Iacon Library had always been a little odd to Orion Pax. Very few scholars came to this place, unless they needed to look up some old, obscure law. Outdated datapads lined the metal shelves, safe from the elements behind plexiglass that would only slide open if the right caste member required access. 

Orion favoured this place to study more than the noisy common area where he was always being chatted up by Senators, Politicians, Researchers, Medics, Scientists, Teachers... the list went on and on. Some solarcycles he felt he did more talking than actual work, and he knew more than a few Scholars who would have loved to spend their days sidling up to rich benefactors, instead of spending time trying to organize clusters of data. 

It annoyed him. Scholars were only really given one job their entire online cycles, it wasn't fair to complain about the work. Without the schoarly caste working at the data in Iacon, those cylinders would have never been completed. Everyone treated that monumental feat as though it were some major hallmark of success. It was, to a degree, but everyone was treating it as if they needed some kind of break from the strenuous task of looking at code. It had been 6 days since the launch and still he was one of the only Scholars who had gone back to work. Everyone else was still schmoozing. 

 

Perhaps he was being too harsh. It wasn't as though he himself hadn't had his little lapses in judgement. Perhaps wishing for an easy life was something mechs did when they were wholly ignorant of the hardships outside of their region. But there were slow and exciting changes happening beneath Cybertron's stagnant, regimented caste systems. It all started with a pit-fighter from Kaon who had publicly stated he would leave the ring and take up office. 

Orion pulled out a small, hand-held monitor and made sure the volume was cycled all the way down. He glanced at the reflections on the thick panes, a handy little trick he'd picked up for avoiding small-talk with someone lurking behind the long, tall shelves of datapads. It was all clear, so he switched on the monitor. 

The scene was fuzzy and distorted, but he could tell what was happening. The gladiators circled each other in the ring, scratches, dents and gouges marring their armour. They were huge, heavy mechs built for speed and power, and despite the amount of energon that leaked from their frames, they were still going in for the kill. Orion remembered the sickened horror he'd felt the very frist time he'd watched a Kaon match. Honestly, if someone had told him about a pit-fight he would have thought it was more like a competition with rules and elegant comabt strikes. Not even in his nightmares could he have imagined something like this bloodsport. 

Orion was haunted by what he learned and just couldn't let it go. His dear friend Ratchet couldn't ease his troubled mind no matter how he tried. Orion began to research bloodsports, pit-fighting and Kaon in general. That was how he'd found out about the silvered pit-fighter who wanted to leave the combat ring and join the Senate as an independent advisor. Talk about bold. When he showed Ratchet the information the medic had laughed himself silly. 

'Imagine a pit-fighter trying to sit through a council meeting,' Ratchet had wheezed, 'I think all the big words might make him smash something.' 

Orion Pax didn't find it funny. He found it arrogant and daring and necessary. Orion hungered for more knowledge on this fighter, but in the following days he hadn't found any. Just some feeds on the fights. They always cut off right before the gladiator would deliver his speech.

Orion studied the small monitor in front of him. The gladiator rutted on his fallen opponent who was on his back, legs thrown wide, taking it, face contorted in ecstasy. He felt a rush of heat to his internal wiring as his interfacing protocols fired hard across his neural net. It was a mixture of intense arousal, morbid curiosity and shame, but he stifled a shaky sigh and kept watching. Orion had found out later this type of footage was used in pornography. He was repulsed by that knowledge, but he only kept the footage because he needed to know the pit-fighter's name. He didn't dare approach Senator Doren or anyone else for information. It made Orion feel cheap and dirty to hold on to such material, but it was all the information he had. 

It was getting late, and he was tired. He realized he'd stayed up far past his recharge time; he needed to be in top condition for yet another meeting with some stuffy Senators. This was one of the quarterly meetings the castes weren't allowed to miss. They would discuss government, supplies, scientific and medical discoveries and then get down to the gritty stuff: vicious gossip. Orion rubbed at the ridge between his optics. What was the point of it all? Just what were they really doing with their time?

***

The meeting started early in the solarcycle and had lasted well into the lunarcyle. Thankfully, Orion found it easy to slip away for most of the day, but he'd been interrupted too many times to get any real work done. Instead when he had been alone in his quarters, he'd dabbled with his small collection of research on Kaon, taking note of where else he might find the information he was looking for. During the night though, he'd had to leave it as he was requested to attend the very end of the "meeting," which at this point had become a social gathering. 

Refreshments were served, the crowd mingled. Mechs of all shape, size and designation were there, though exclusive to the higher caste members only. No caste below scholar level had been allowed to participate. Orion hung back in the corner of the hall, quietly part of a small number of Senators and Scientists, trying to look involved in conversation to anyone behind him, and trying not to look like a creeper to the rest of the group. They didn't acknowledge Orion's presence much, and finally Orion was able to drift away to another group of mechs he wasn't too keen on talking to. 

Ratchet had finally shown up with a few of his peers. Whatever they had been doing before sort of showed in their less than graceful gait as they were offered highgrade. Orion strolled up to Ratchet and touched his shoulder plate. "I thought you'd never show." He said quietly. 

The medic smiled at him. "Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world." He said, and winked. Orion smiled wider, feeling some of the tension and horrendous boredom lift away from him. 

"You haven't missed much. We had a few presentations on scientific and medical projects that require funding, but other than that ..." Orion's voice trailed off and he rolled his optics. 

"I know." Ratchet sympathized. "It's exactly why I don't check in so early in the cycle. At least they're serving highgrade now." 

The two mechs were lost in discussion and they seemed to ignore everything around them. Orion cherished these little moments with Ratchet. Even in a room surrounded by other mechs he felt that he was speaking with a mech on a different level than everyone else. They had the same concerns about the Senators, they had the same plans for their careers. Orion enjoyed Ratchet's wicked sense of humour far more than he should and Ratchet always found Orion's company a relief from the drudgery and moribidity of medical work. For the first time in a few weeks, Orion was lost in the simple pleasure of being with Ratchet. 

"Orion Pax," A voice behind him drawled, and Orion stiffened at the smooth, formal way his name was spoken right into his audial, much too close for comfort or even basic decency. Orion's nice mood vanished and something cold and rigid settled in its place. 

"Senator Doren." Orion said in greeting, and made no move to complete the customary greeting. 

"How's your research on Kaon going?" 

Orion blinked his optics slowly, embarrassment and no small amount of shame making his vents hitch. He hadn't exactly hidden his research, but he didn't look for that material on the terminals at the workstation. Everything he'd researched had been done on his personal time in his quarters and why in the Pit would anyone but him have access to that? 

"Who told you I was doing research?" Orion asked, and he heard Ratchet shift uncomfortabely behind him. 

"Well, your first time seeing a Kaon pit-fight left such a strong impression on you." Senator Doren said, faceplates gleaming. 

A slow anger burned along his wiring and he was so incensed that this Senator seemed pit-bent on bringing up that malady in a place where only cultured discussion was supposed to be taking place. 

"Good evening, Senator." Orion said smoothly and had every intention of walking away and dragging a flustered Ratchet with him and then he stopped short, nearly running into a mech that towered over everyone in the room. 

Silvered plating, sharpened armour points. Orion recognized the build and stature, but he had never seen more than grainy footage and the figure was always in motion, always striking, clawing, lifting and breaking, crushing and then... and then... Orion vented air in a quick effort to cool his systems before any internal fans could start whining. 

"Surely such a talented archivist can spare but a moment for a lowly mech?" The voice was deep and smooth, like the purr of powerful engines, and the words were clipped and perfectly cultured, the accent sounding like a mech with a pedigree. Instead, a Kaon pit-fighter stood before Orion and the archivist just stared up at the figure, all his research, his late tired nights, his fitful dreams, binding together to form the mech that towered in front of him. "Senator Doren tells me you are quite impressed with my performance in the ring. I am always pleased to meet a fan."

"...you..." Orion said, the word coming out in a whisper and for the life of him he couldn't stop his optics from drifting over armoured plating the colour of metallic, grey skies. Powerful hip joints held a narrow torso and powerful arms hung from broad shoulders; pale blue eyes regarded him and were set into a rather attractive if somewhat marred face and Orion quite suddenly had an inkling of why that footage was considered erotic material. 

"Perhaps I should introduce myself properly." The silver mech suggested. Orion watched as if in a trance, powerful legs folding down slowly, gracefully into a kneel, one hand behind the mech's back, the other reached out for Orion's trembling hand. In proper procedure, the big mech leaned down and took the hand of his better in his. The powerful mech in front of him placed a firm, yet gentle kiss on the back of Orion's hand, and the placement of the kiss wasn't close to the knuckle as was appropriate for two mechs who were meeting each other for the first time. The kiss that pulled plating just a little bit was right on the back of Orion's wrist, on the place one kissed when more intimacy was being implied and the archivist could only continue to stare. 

"It is my sincere pleasure to meet you, Orion Pax." The mech said, and Orion was no stranger to the heated look in the mech's optics. He could only stare in disbelief as the cool words, cultured voice uttered his name. "I am Megatronus."


	3. First Impressions 3

Part III

Ratchet hovered close to Orion as they watched the spectacle unfold. High standing caste members clustered about Senator Doren and his, Orion discovered later, evening companion. 

"Oh, tell me I've had too much highgrade." Ratchet groused as he watched the towering silvered mech bow to a giggling courtesan. "Who did he sleep with to get in here?" 

"Sh!" Orion hushed Ratchet, and strained his audials, trying to pick up as much clarity as he could. He could feel the power in Megatronus' low, quiet voice but from so far away he couldn't make out the words. He longed to hear him again, to look up at him and ask all kinds of inappropriate questions and yet his feet kept him rooted to the floor as if welded there. It was astonishing. Ratchet didn't seem to think anything of it but Orion thought this had to be unprecedented; a pit-side mech anywhere in Iacon was...surely this was something surprising? Why was no one concerned? 

The archivist looked at the various faceplates of high society Cybertronians whose looks ranged from appreciative to disgusted. Had something like this ever happened before? Shouldn't there have been a warning or a notice or something that this was going to happen? Wasn't a Gladiator aiming for the seat of an advisor something to be surprised or worried about? Surely they wouldn't just lie down and let their caste rules slip by the wayside, someone higher up had to have noticed that a Gladiator was roaming their halls uncuffed and right after a Senate meeting. 

Then it occured to Orion that he himself had been warned. With porn footage. What better way to destroy someone's credibility than to spread slander and cause skepticism about one's abilities? What better way to -control- someone than with blackmail? 

Orion stepped away from Ratchet, ignoring the medic's questioning words. 

He circled around and drifted closer, his audials set to pick up the smallest sound. Megatronus' voice washed over him.

"... The eastern quarter is in dire need of an Iacon representative. Many of our younger mechs just don't last long." Senator Amar said. "Someone of your standing could probably convince them to consider better alternatives. Education, employment... Those pit fights are utterly vile." 

"Tsk, Amar." Doren said. "Our friend here made his career in the Kaon pits, didn't you? I'm sure you'd be dreadfully bored having to convince pit-side trash to put down their crowbars and read." 

"I'm afraid my skills are only of interest to a more malleable audience." Megatronus replied. "If you're having trouble in that sector, why not pull your representatives out? That's not a friendly place for soft, young Iacon mechlings." He suggested. 

"Because," Doren smiled, his voice drawing out the word as if he were patiently explaining something to a sparkling, "we transport energon there, we can't simply give up that whole region." 

"Cultural differences are one thing, but a squabble to avoid starvation is quite different, especially to," Megatronus' optics tracked on Doren, "pit-side trash. I would suggest abandoning the facility altogether." 

"That's a lot of energon." Doren commented.

"I assure you, Iacon isn't running out." Megatronus rolled his blue optics in a show of (mock?) exasperation and the two Senators shared a chuckle. 

Orion's optic ridge twitched in annoyance, and the Senator's actions were beginning to make more sense. Just a few more slips and sooner or later, Megatronus would be finished here. The other Senators would have a reason to deny him entry into their ranks. They'd already prepared the way by showcasing the mech's 'talents in the ring.' Megatronus was being baited. 

"Have you ever lost a fight?" Orion spoke up. 

The three mechs, taller than he was, two of them of a higher station than he was and the third probably able to snap him in half, paused their chat and slowly regarded him. The Senators were open mouthed in shock and silent. Megatronus' optics were narrowed into slits. Orion felt very small under their heavy gazes and he was sure his knee-joints were trembling. He reset his vocalizer and stepped closer to Megatronus. 

"Have you ever lost in the ring?" Orion clarified. Doren coughed and Amar shook his head at Orion. 

"Orion, please have some manners." Senator Amar glowered. "You know perfectly well the answer to that question. Now go to." Amar wasn't completely cruel like Doren. At least he was willing to give Megatronus the benefit of a doubt, and it showed in the way he stepped in and chided a lower caste member for asking a question that everyone knew the answer to; yes Megatronus must have lost a few matches in his lifetime and yes, the thing he did to his opponents did happen to him, and no you do not discuss a person's failures in front of everyone, good night. 

"I want to hear him say it." Orion said. And now the Senators had backed away from Megatronus, who had taken a step forward. 

"And what, pray tell, would you have me say, Orion Pax?" Megatronus' handsome face sneered as he approached the smaller mech, and Orion had to put every ounce of defiance into not stepping backward with his hands up. 

"I want to know what happens to you when you lose in the ring." The words tumbled over themselves on their way out of Orion's mouth. Primus, he wasn't sure what he was aiming for, but he knew he had to get Megatronus to stop talking to those Senators right now, and move on to a better crowd. 

Orion's chestplate heaved and he did take a step back as Megatronus approached, body leaning down and tensed in that way he he tended to do before he lunged at an opponent. He told himself the Gladiator wouldn't outright attack him, but the archivist kept drawing back. He was too aware of all the optics on the two of them, was suddenly very aware he just insulted a Senator's evening companion and really wanted to run away. The archivist watched the Gladiator's hand warily as it slid beneath his chin. He stared into optics the colour of pale energon. 

"You can know all the glories of a Kaon pit-fight when you face me there." Megatronus said, and did something completey unexpected. 

He kissed Orion. 

On the mouth. 

In front of everyone. 

Orion's processor surged, his fans clicked on and his mouth, full of the taste of sharp teeth and smooth metal, uttered an embarrassingly loud protest, or was that a moan? He was aware of snickers and whispers behind his back but it wasn't enough to divert his attention from the tongue that swept into his mouth, or the pull of lips on his, insistent, claiming, demanding. Orion's cooling fans kicked up a notch, loud and lively and condensation formed somewhere on his helm. 

Satisfied, Megatronus pulled back, the kiss wet and loud, a triumphant smirk on his faceplates. Embarass me, will you? His optics seemed to say. He straightened himself with a haughty tilt of his helm and turned back to the Senators. "If you'll excuse me." He said, and stalked off. No one followed. 

Orion stared at the Senators owl-eyed in shock. He wasn't sure if he was exhilerated or terrified or both. Probably both. His spark pounded fast and hard in his chestplate and it was with sheer force of will that his interfacing protocols hadn't fully engaged. Definitely both, by Primus. 

"Oh Orion. When you want attention, you certainly now how to get it." Senator Doren commented. "Has your curiosity been satisified, then?" 

Orion reset his vocalizer for probably the fourth time. But said nothing. His faceplates burned and he stood there before the Senators like a reprimanded sparkling. "Perhaps I should... leave..." The archivist said quietly. Doren turned his back to Orion, Amar sighed and gave a nod of consent. 

The archivist's helm was low. He didn't want to catch the optic of anyone (everyone!) who had seen that little show. He had successfully gotten Megatronus away from the Senators but he was too rattled to think of what to do next. 

"You've lost your mind!" Ratchet growled into his audial. Orion flushed with embarrssment. "What in Primus did you say to him?" 

"I... I asked what happens to him when he loses a fight." Orion sputtered. 

Ratchet slapped his helm. "He gets raped, you moron. You don't bring those kinds of subjects up at a Senate meeting, it's uncouth. Why am I telling you this, you know this. Why did you have to go over there?" 

"Doren and Amar were baiting him." Orion said lamely. 

"So. What. What exactly do you want with him? Don't tell me you're infatuated." 

Orion glared at Ratchet. "He wants to be a Senator? He won't get there with those two guiding him. He needs guidance, real guidance if he wants a shot at the Senate. He needs someone who is going to give him real answers, not insult his station by teaching hinm inappropriate greetings or by making an evening companion out of him!" 

Ratchest sighed harshly. "I assume you asked that question as a means of pointing out how violence in the ring just turns out more violence. But asking what happens when he loses a fight just looked like morbid curiosity from a mechling." 

The archivist flinched, looking distressed, then sighed. "He's screwed." Orion said darkly. 

"He is. And you quite embarrassed yourself in the process, Orion Pax. Now, please." Ratchet said, gently pushing him in the direction of the adjacent hallway that led out of the meeting chamber. 

Orion hesitated, staying by Ratchet's side. Orion knew the rules of interaction but most of the time their meanings were lost on him. Ratchet, on the other hand, had a knack for understanding subterfuge. He hesitantly asked his friend, "What was the point of... kissing me?" 

"A kiss from an evening companion means he accepts your flirtations." Ratchet said. Orion's optics swirled wide and his mouth dropped. 

"I wasn't flirting!" Orion said. "It was the farthest thing from my mind!" 

"Oh I'm sure," the medic said, smilling. "But now everyone thinks a political debate is the farthest thing from your mind. Besides, you're adorable when you're flustered. He put on quite a show." 

Orion glared at the medic. 

"Run along, now." Ratchet said. "Keep your head low. If you stay out of anymore trouble the whole thing should blow over." 

Despite being annoyed at Ratchet taking in his shot at Orion's already blustered pride, he was grateful for the advice. He'd bombed worse than he thought. As he stalked toward the hallway, he made every effort to keep his head held high and not make optic contact. There was a slight tremble in his walk; there were things he noticed and he felt guilty for noticing them. The nip on his lower lip Megatronus had given him before backing away, the taste of that kiss, the smell and build and stature of a mech far stronger and far older than he. The sheer force of authority that radiated through him. Orion took in another deep ventilation, and focused on disabling his cooling fans. How embarassing. 

As Orion was nearing the exit, he caught sight of that familiar figure. Megatronus' hands were clasped behind his lower back and it looked like he was just finishing a short chat with someone. His heavy footsteps resounded in the hallway. Orion bit his lip nervously. He'd done enough damage, it was true. But when was he going to have another chance at fixing this?

***

"Megatronus." Orion said softly when he'd caught up to the hulking mech. He kept walking. "Please, I'm sorry about what happened. It wasn't my intention to insult you." 

The Gladiator stopped, and turned with more grace than such a figure should have had. "And what exactly were you intending?" The question was said in a growl, low and hard and not at all like the sensuous purr he was using to chat up the Senators. 

Oddly, that left the clerk feeling a lot less flustered. Orion squared his shoulders. "You'll never get anywhere with Doren and Amar, you realize? If they considered your offer you would have been invited while all the political discussions were taking place, not afterward." 

Megatronus' optics narrowed again, but he remained silent. Orion took that as a sign of recognition. 

"Changes take place at the Councillor's level, and those changes are carried out or maintained by the Senators. There hasn't been a change to any bills or laws for hundreds of years. If you want that, you have to get to a Councillor. And they don't typically give the floor to evening companions." 

Orion watched the Gladiator carefully, watched the way his optics narrowed further, the way his denta ground together. "Very well." Megatronus said after a moment. "What do you suggest?" 

"Let me help you. It will take a long time, but I can get you to a council meeting. From there, you'll have the floor and none of the Senators will be allowed to challenge or interrupt you while you're delivering your speech. They won't be able to sideline you with things like this." 

"And how does a data clerk accomplish this?" Megatronus demanded. 

"As part of the scholarly cast, I have the right to request a hearing of my own. They won't make it easy for me; the Senators will question me, try to discourage me. They'll decide for themselves if I should be allowed to see the Councillors on what I'm bringing to them. If they all approve, I'll be given the floor. But on that day, I can have an emissary step in for me, should I not be able to make it. That will be your chance." Orion said. 

Megatronus was silent for a long time. Despite residing in Kaon, this pit-fighter was familiar enough with political workings to know danger when he saw it, Orion was certain. What Orion was proposing could get him excommunicated out of Iacon, and even worse things could happen to a mech from Kaon. One did not go behind the back of Senators; you didn't go over their heads like that. Everything in Iacon, its caste structure, its laws, was based on mutual understanding, co-operation and trust. 

That had been non-existent in Iacon for a few hundred years. 

"Answer me this, archivist." Megatronus said, stepping forward. This time, Orion held his ground, even as the silvered mech leaned down. "Why would you risk so much to help me?" 

"Iacon is a place of law and culture. It should exist to serve the better good. Instead, it's become a beacon of extravagance. Being a Senator shouldn't be fun. You live to serve the people. You live to advance. You don't live off the back struts of others." Orion said. 

"You wish to return Iacon to its former dignity?" 

"Yes. And I want the same dignity for Kaon. Anything less is obscene." 

Megatronus looked surprised. Orion felt a jolt of pride wash over him. He'd done it. He'd gotten here before anyone else could and he'd convinced Megatronus to work with him, to choose him, and change the system from the inside out.

"We'll talk, Orion Pax." Was all he said. He straightened up again, nodded to the archivist and turned on his heel, leaving Orion standing there with a look of triumph on his faceplates.


End file.
